


Mistletoe Mishaps

by serenbach



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Cultural Differences, Dwarf & Hobbit Cultural Differences, M/M, Mistletoe, Misunderstandings, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 02:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5522591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenbach/pseuds/serenbach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo, Dwalin and Thorin are spending Yule in the Shire, where the Dwarves encounter the tradition the hobbits have for mistletoe for the first time. Perhaps Bilbo should have warned them first.</p><p> Once they get adjusted to the idea, though, they take to it pretty quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistletoe Mishaps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mephestopheles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mephestopheles/gifts).



> This is set in the same 'verse as [The King, The Prince and The Consort](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5398229/) but is totally stand alone.

Bilbo emerged from his study when he heard the door to the smial close but didn’t hear anyone move further into Bag End or call out to him.

Bilbo, along with Thorin and Dwalin, had managed to find the time to come the Shire to arrange their second wedding among his family here (which had not been easy. Kings generally had a lot to do, as do the people married to them), leaving Fili in charge, with his mother and Balin for advice.

While Bilbo was sad that none of the rest of the Company would be able to see their Shire wedding (it was not just Fili and Balin who were extraordinarily busy with both the restoration of Erebor and settling in with their families) but he was so _happy_ to be in Bag End with his husbands.

He had grown to love Erebor, its long hallways and high ceilings, its carved pillars and decorated walls, and he loved the life he had there, but he was a hobbit and there was a part of him that _missed_ the Shire. Both Thorin and Dwalin knew, of course, and they did everything they could to make sure he was happy and content in his life with them. And he was, he really was, he wouldn’t trade his life in Erebor with them for anything, but having them both with him in Bag End was like a secret dream that had come true, especially around the Yule festival, his favourite time of year, and something sadly not celebrated in Erebor (outside of the Company, at least).    

And as much as he’d loved his wedding in Erebor, there was nothing quite like a Shire party. He only hoped that one day; he’d be able to bring all of his new family with him to celebrate one.  

Thorin and Dwalin seemed to have settled in to the Shire well, once he’d got them to retrieve his missing spoons from his cousin Lobelia anyway (Bilbo had named his cousin Drogo caretaker of Bag End, but he had very kindly, and with only a little bit of a blush, gone back to his parent’s home for the winter so they could have Bag End to themselves) and they roamed through Bag End as easily and comfortably as if they had lived here for years, not just one night previously, which warmed his heart more than he could put into words.

So for one of his dwarves to come into Bag End, and to hesitate at the door and not call out for him, made Bilbo think that something was wrong.

He put his book down in the study (he was meant to be sorting through the books, seeing if there were any he wanted to take any back to Erebor with him but he’d got a little side-tracked) and headed out into the hallway where he found Thorin lingering by the door, his face ashen grey.

Bilbo’s heart faltered. “Thorin,” he cried, hurrying forward, taking his hand and squeezing, his other hand reaching to cradle his face, trying to get Thorin to meet his gaze. “Did something happen? Are you alright? Is Dwalin…”

“Bilbo,” Thorin said, taking in a shuddering breath. “I…”

“Come on,” Bilbo said, ushering further inside and pressing him into the armchair in front of the fire. “Please, tell me what happened.”

“I love you and Dwalin,” Thorin began lowly, his eyes downcast and expression shamed. “I did not mean to give the impression to your neighbour that I was… available to respond to her advances.”

“One of my neighbours flirted with you?” Bilbo asked slowly. He couldn’t fault the neighbour for their taste, that was for sure, but it didn’t seem to explain why Thorin was acting so ashamed.

Thorin gripped his sleeve without seeming to be aware of it, more for his own comfort than anything else. “She kissed me,” Thorin whispered, his voice low and abashed.

Bilbo blinked at him for a couple of seconds. “Was she, by any chance, standing underneath mistletoe?” he asked slowly.

Thorin glanced upwards, perhaps surprised by his question, or the calm tone he asked it in. “There was… some sort of greenery around the door when I went in to help with her shopping,” he replied hesitantly. “And then she kissed me on the cheek. I did not mean…” Thorin trailed off, looking upset, when Bilbo hushed him gently.

“Did she give you a berry?” Bilbo asked and Thorin just looked at him helplessly. Bilbo uncoiled his hands, where there was a sticky smear of something that once could have been a berry on his palm.

Bilbo sighed inwardly. He should have expected this. For all that dwarves were much, much more casual with touch and personal space than hobbits were, in this one way, they were very different. For dwarves, kisses were for immediate family and lovers only. Giving a casual acquaintance a kiss under the mistletoe, no matter how chaste and innocent, would be unthinkable, a betrayal to the one or ones they loved.

It was just that Bilbo had assumed that whichever of his family, friends and neighbours hadn’t thought that he’d gone entirely cracked would be far too intimidated by Thorin and Dwalin to even think about kissing them under the mistletoe, but he’d evidently been wrong about that, especially since his husbands had been going out of their way to _not_ frighten the other hobbits (aside from Lobelia).

“Thorin,” he began gently, looking at his woebegone husband. “Decorating our doorways with mistletoe and other greenery is a Yule custom in the Shire, and one of the traditions with mistletoe is that when two people stand underneath a sprig of it, they pull off a berry and then kiss.”

The look of dawning relief on Thorin’s face would have made Bilbo laugh if Thorin hadn’t been so distressed about the whole thing. “It’s just for fun, I promise. She didn’t mean anything by it and you didn’t do anything wrong.”

He leant down and kissed the growing smile on Thorin’s face, making a mental note to ask his relatives to avoid kissing his husbands under the mistletoe, just to avoid any future confusion.

“But why the tradition?” Thorin asked, his panic fading away into disgruntlement.

“We bring greenery inside during the winter months to remind us that not everything is dead, and that spring will come again,” Bilbo explained. “Kissing under the mistletoe is just a silly game, although courting couples have some fun with it.”

Before Thorin could ask any more questions, the front door open and closed again. “We’re in here, love,” Bilbo called, and Dwalin entered, his face pale and his eyes wide and frantic.

Bilbo sighed. He would definitely have to speak to his neighbours.

\---

When Bilbo woke the next morning, after spending the evening explaining Shire Yule traditions to his loves, he was alone. Although one of his dwarves had pulled out a blanket from one of the spare rooms to make sure he was covered up and warm enough without them.

He got up, picked up his dressing gown from where he’d hung it over the chair the night before, and headed down the hallway in search of his husbands.

Bilbo only had to open the bedroom door to find out what his dwarves had been up to. Every doorframe, light fitting and mantelpiece had been decked out in greenery, interspersed with the occasional dangling gem from the stash that Thorin and Dwalin always had on them.

And a lot of that greenery was made up from mistletoe.

He smiled at both of them as they came and kissed him under the mistletoe, one after the other, rather more lingering than the tiny kisses that his neighbour had given them.

“You’ve come around to the idea of mistletoe, then?” Bilbo asked breathlessly.

“Hmm,” Thorin agreed, nuzzling him as Dwalin kissed him again in a way that made him want to head right back to bed with the two of them.

“I’m coming around to it, aye,” Dwalin rumbled down his ear.

Bilbo grinned and rolled his eyes as they kissed each other. “You’re meant to be plucking the berries after every kiss, you know,” he pointed out.

Dwalin grinned and plucked off three berries. “I suppose we can always pick more of this stuff,” he said, sounding pleased about that.

“If there’s any left in the Shire,” Bilbo laughed as Thorin plucked another berry, although his laughter trailed off at the deep kiss he gave him, one that did have them making their way back into the bedroom.   

“We’re never going to get any wedding planning done with all this mistletoe, are we?” Bilbo complained, before Thorin and Dwalin thoroughly drove the complaints out of his mind.              

**Author's Note:**

> The hobbit neighbour had no idea that when she pointed out that they were standing under the mistletoe and said "can i give you a berry?" that the dwarves had no idea what would happen next, and she meant no offence. 
> 
> Thank you for pitch hitting, mephestopheles! Hope you enjoy!


End file.
